


My Soul to Keep

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything with Hydra is shadows and lies. No more so than the death of Rosalind Price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Soul to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> So I'm still not over 3.09 and the writers dumber than dumb move of killing off Rosalind. With that in mind, here's some fic set post 3.10 based on a denial theory I had. No real spoilers for 3.10. Just hopeful wishes. Enjoy.

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep._

_If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take._

His lips were still during the car ride into the capital. Usually such bouts of silence were because his mind was in the throes of some deep debate, some impossible decision. Today his mind was numb, frozen. He kept staring at his hands. The black glove pressed against his knee, the artificial fingers digging into the cap. His other rested across his thigh, nails digging into the palm. He looked at the half moon shapes buried in his skin. He couldn’t feel them.

 

Phil only looked up when he felt Lola’s engine shudder and stop. The hum of the car faded away, replaced by the sounds of D.C. waking to another day. Lost without the sound of the engine to cover his thoughts, he turned to the driver. It took him three attempts to speak, his tongue having to wet his lips. “I thought we decided against this.”

 

“Well I decided differently.”

 

In another lifetime, Melinda _talked._ Whilst he was quiet, she rambled: talking about South America and jumping out of planes. Sometimes Phil wondered if that had even been real. Whether there had ever been a time they didn’t know Skye’s origins and Ward had been anything other than the brutal monster that slid his knife into the back of everyone who dared look away. They had sat in Lola in Mexico City and they had promised _no more secrets._

 

Sometimes Phil wondered if every single moment of that year had been a lie.

 

“This is the part where you get out of the car.”

 

The corner of his mouth flickered, a small smile hesitating on his lips. It died as soon as it was born. “I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Tell her the truth.” Melinda’s gaze slid from the windshield to him; her hand sliding from the steering wheel to touch his hand. It was the first time they’d touched since he’d held her in the Hydra compound; his arms wrapped tight around her as the world crumbled. But now the world was still. Now it was her fingers holding his. “You can do this. You _need_ to do this. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Phil nodded, feeling the strength in his fingers to squeeze hers back. He didn’t remember opening the car door. Nor did he recall crossing the road to the small coffee shop across the street. He felt the cold metal of the chair press against his back. He felt a slight chill as a breeze ran through the small collection of empty tables situated outside. Phil couldn’t feel his fingers as they rested against the table. He tried to flex them; tried to encourage the blood to pump. But it was like he had stopped. His body was like winter, waiting for the spring.

 

“Director Coulson.”

 

For the first moment after he heard her voice, Phil forgot to breathe. Then he looked up, _looked at her,_ and his lungs began to work again. He took in one shaky breath after another, his chest heaving against the thin fabric of his shirt. His fingertips jerked. Sliding them underneath the table, he gestured with his gloved hand to the empty chair sitting across from him. She hesitated, but in the end took up his offer.

 

The last time they had sat across from each other had been in her dining room. _Burgers. Banter._ The prospect of the night turning into something else until- “I was surprised to get your call. We haven’t talked since I left your base. After you…well, _you know_.”

 

Phil nodded, his head bouncing comically up and down. “ _I know_. I thought it would be good to talk. Explain a few things.”

 

“Good. Because I have a feeling you know more about what’s been going on in the last couple of weeks than I do. Like why Malick suddenly disappeared? I’m guessing you have an answer to that.”

 

“I do.”

 

Rosalind nodded. “Good. Then read me in, Coulson.”

 

His mouth gaped like a fish struggling for oxygen; unsure of just how to put recent events into words. He was saved when a businessman brushed past their table, his voice loud and obnoxious as he talked into his Bluetooth set. A couple of students, eyes red from the earliness of the hour, joined him in pushing through into the coffee shop. He waited until all three had filtered back out before finally explaining.

 

“Malick’s dead.” Melinda had done it. Twice in the chest, one in the throat. He’d thought that ironic at the time. Now he just felt empty. “He succeeded in opening another portal, but we managed to close it before the creature could come through. Grant Ward’s dead too.”

 

“Good.” Her gaze was just over his right shoulder. She could barely look at him. Oh he so wanted her to look at him. “I made an appointment with Malick in the vain hope I’d get something out of him. When he didn’t show, I figured my cover was blown. But then he fell off the face of the Earth.”

 

Phil’s lips quirked in a smile as he thought about Malick’s final resting place. “Gideon Malick is no longer a threat; neither is Hydra. You can restructure the ATCU without their influence. If you need any tips…”

 

It was a thin, pale smile. But it was more than enough for him. “I’ll keep that in mind. But, for now, I have other questions. Banks is missing.”

 

“Banks is dead.”

 

Rosalind stilled. She closed her eyes, lips pursing as she swallowed down any tears for her fallen colleague. She didn’t trust such emotions in front of him. _It hurt._  “I thought as much. In our line of work, if you don’t call back there’s a problem.” She paused. “But there’s something you’re not telling me, Coulson. Something you’re leaving out. You owe me the truth.”

 

“I do.”

 

He couldn’t look at her, not for this. Instead he looked at his hand. The same hand that had cradled her face as she’d opened her front door and kissed him hello. The same hand that had caressed her cheek, grazed the small of her back as they were getting ready for dinner. The same hand that had held her throat as she’d bled out on the floor. The same hand covered in her blood. The same hand her own now held.

 

“Sorry.” Rosalind went to pull back, but he gripped it tight. He felt the warmth of her skin through his fingertips, could even feel the beat of her pulse against his thumb. “Phil, what happened?”

 

“Malick had a lot of different Inhumans he kept on ice. One of them, Wexler, had the ability of projection.”

 

“I don’t know what that means.”

 

Phil swallowed. “Nothing good. Malick set Wexler loose when we were at his stronghold. He caught up with Melinda and he…he made her believe she was somewhere else. For a moment she was back at the house she shared with Andrew. They had a child, a little boy. Everything that had happened to her…none of it had _really_ happened. That was Wexler’s ability. To make people believe that the images he showed them were real.”

 

“Is May okay?”

 

“I think so. We’re…we’re taking some time, just the two of us, to get our heads on straight.” Phil automatically looked across the street to Melinda sitting in the front seat of Lola. “May wasn’t the only one Wexler played with.”

 

“You. He manipulated you.”

 

Phil nodded. “At the time, I didn’t notice anything wrong. But now... You know how, in a dream, you’re somewhere and you don’t remember how you got there?” Rosalind squeezed his hand. “At the time, going to your place for dinner seemed natural, normal. I didn’t remember the conversation we had that made things right between us. It didn’t seem to matter. I was at your door and nothing else mattered.”

 

Rosalind’s face was still, clenched. She knew what was coming. “What did he make you see?”

 

“A nightmare. A nightmare that, for the longest time, I thought was real.” Phil reached across with his gloved hand, cradling Rosalind’s hand within his. He gazed at her, unable to keep from staring at her eyes, her lips, her throat. He looked away. “It doesn’t matter what the nightmare was. Just matters that I’m awake.”

 

When he was a child, he’d often dreamt his father was alive. For the first few moments upon waking, he would be filled with the urge to run to his father and bury himself in his arms. But then reality would set in, and it would be like losing him all over again. Those few moments with Rosalind had lasted a lifetime; almost long enough for Phil to lose himself. But the nightmare had passed, and Phil had been awake long enough to realise what was real.

 

The weight of her hand, the touch of her forehead against his…it was all real.

 

“Do you need me to pinch you?”

 

“No.” _I need you to kiss me._ “I just needed to make things right between us. You never have as much time as you think you do.”

 

Rosalind nodded as she pulled away. She remained close, her left hand still wrapped in his. Her right moved to lie across his gloved hand, fingers clutching the leather. “With Malick gone, I think we’ll have a little time. Maybe we can finally have that burger.”

 

Phil swallowed, his grip tightening on her hands. “I’d like that.”

 

Around them, the city began to wake fully from its slumber. Cars began to stream past, a thin trickle of customers became a steady stream through the coffee shop doors. His hands slipped from hers as it became necessary to leave. A car pulled up to the kerb, one of the ATCU agents stepping out to open the door for his boss. Rosalind offered no more than a warm smile before sliding inside, but it was enough for him. The rest could wait for his return.

 

Walking across the street to Lola, Phil took a moment to feel the warmth of the early morning sun across his face. He’d once read that, when you sleep, your body shuts down as much as it could. It lies dormant until waking.

 

Joining Melinda, Phil finally felt awake.


End file.
